If you didn't finish your short story... don't worry, I didn't either.

In fact, I think the only person who did was General Jaguar Scout.  Let's give him a round of applause.




I have 2,000 words written for my short story, so far, because I admit I wasn't very focused - heh, what was I thinking trying to write a Short Story AND 2 novels???  But, I'm glad I at least have that much done, and I will be continuing to work on it in my spare time.

However (and that's a big however).

I'm busy - quite busy.

I keep laying off things I need to do... post on my blog... take a shower... brush my teeth... write a novel... you get the picture.

And volleyball isn't working out quite as well as I would have hoped.

I hit the ball up two days ago (practice day).  Yup, I hit it up.  That shows I'm improving a TON.  No, really, I'm not being sarcastic.

Something's come up with volleyball that gives me a chance of survival though.


What I mean is that since 9 players (no more, no less) make up 1 team, and there has to be 2 girls on each team, and the youth group doesn't have more than 2 girls to play, there can only be 1 team, as we usually have 2.

If you understand the confused paragraph above, it's simply stating there aren't enough female players to make up 2 teams.  So we just have 1 team this year, which leaves out some of the youth so they can't play.

I might be one - because I'm not the best player.

I'm not exactly sure if I want to play volleyball in a tournament so...

~The WordWeaver
2/16/2013 07:27:34 am

Well....I didn't finish either, I haven't written since....the second day, I think? I may have written a few words since the cruise, but....

Yeah. Do you still want me to send it in? I can if you want.

*claps for General*

The WordWeaver
2/18/2013 10:04:13 pm

Tis okay. :)

Sure, if you want to.

General J.S.
2/16/2013 10:19:46 am

Thank you . . . thank you . . .

Will people be able to read For Their Country and vice versa?

Also, I have an idea -- should we all take a vote of who won the

contest? If the person hosting it (you!) writes a novella, then it

might be hard for them to decide who won, because they wrote their

own, if you know what I mean. So, if we all vote, it would make it

easier to know who won.

Are you ACTUALLY that bad at volleyball?! I mean, its fairly easy,

from what I've found; you simply aim your arm & hand in the

direction you want the ball to head (my mom taught me that after

the first p.e. day, which was volleyball, for I had been aiming

generally up, instead of out).

By the way, did you put that link in your e-mail?

The WordWeaver
2/18/2013 10:07:21 pm

Only if you want them to. If you do, then you can post FTC here, in the comments.

Well, from the start this wasn't really a competition, it was just to inspire you (and everyone else) to write.

Maybe, probably. I'm really bad at it. Especially because I'm short. :(

Link, email? I'm not sure I understand.

General J.S.
2/19/2013 01:54:32 am

I'll post it, then.

Oh, okay.

Well, maybe you can hit the ball from the back of the court or something.

There was a link in one of your emails, and I was not sure if it was from you or not. I don't know how it got there!

Princess Moira the Writer
2/18/2013 10:25:29 am

I'm starting to get worried about you. Where are you? And the comments? And the posts? No pressure but I'm waiting. :-) Just kidding! I know you're busy...

*claps for Jaguar* Go Jaguar! Good job!
Oh, and good post.
Volleyball. Evil. Bleh. :P ;) Hitting it up is progress! Good job! :D

In Ellos,
Princess Moira

The WordWeaver
2/18/2013 10:08:24 pm

Here... and at a busy place.

Yeah, I'm making a little progress... sort of...

Princess Moira the Writer
2/19/2013 09:25:03 am

OK, well that's okay. :-) If it makes you feel any better, I am ZERO good at volleyball, like ZERO, so hitting it up is huge. :-) Keep it up!

♥ Her Highness ♥

General J.S.
2/19/2013 01:55:49 am

Thank you!

Have you finished yours and may I read it?

General J.S.
2/19/2013 01:59:30 am

January 20 – February 15

For Their Country


The gale was tearing through the tree canopy, mercilessly ripping saplings – roots and all – from the soil. Torrents of the thunderous rain came pelting down upon the rider, dangerously forcing the horse off balance. He decided he must take shelter somewhere -- anywhere! Jumping from the horse, he pressed forward on foot, scanning the area around him for any sign of a refuge. Finally, he espied what appeared to be a fairly deep cavity in the ground, thickly covered over with branches. He led the horse into it, squeezing into the darkness . . .
‘Twas dawn. The soft sunlight filtered through the branches, suffusing both horse and rider in warmth. The rider had light-brown skin and dark red hair, which was tousled from the night’s ride.
“What!” the man cried out. Then, he breathed a sigh of relief as he recalled his location. Rising slowly, so as not to awaken the horse, he peered out from amongst the leaves. It was all clear. He crept into the open, stretching his weary muscles. The sunlight was glaring in his eyes; he shaded them with his hand, and looked around for something to eat. He started to wander around and, after a few minutes, came upon a clump of blackberries. Filling his food sack with several large handfuls, he gulped a number of them down himself. He then jogged back to the overnight refuge and fed the horse some of the berries. It had awoken and had devoured its fill of grass while he was gone. Then he climbed on and began a light gallop, ducking low-hanging limbs on his way.
After about an hour’s ride, he arrived at a low brick wall. Dismounting, he ran and hopped over it; horse traveling around it. He then tied the horse to a nearby tree trunk and looked around. Finding a medium sized rock, he started to pull hard on it . . . creeeeak; a small, disguised trap door was opened. He crawled inside and, obtaining a small piece of flint from a sack on his waist, struck it against the wall. The impact produced a bright flash, and sparks landed on a torch stuck in the wall. It instantly ignited, and he used it to lead his way through the narrow tunnel he was in, which led into complete darkness.
The narrowest beam of light shone through a crack above his head; the man pushed up next to it, and a trapdoor similar to the first opened. He stepped out of the tunnel and into a circular room about the size of a full-grown redwood tree. Extinguishing the torch in a bucket of water by the trapdoor meant for that purpose, he gazed around him. There was a spiral staircase following the inside of the room to the top of it, being several meters above him. He ascended the staircase and reached the summit in a minute or so. Glassless, small windows extended the perimeter of the top, allowing him to gain a panoramic though intermittent view of the surrounding countryside, for the walls between each opening partially blocked his view. There! He had found what he had been searching for.

He clambered back down the stairs, opened the trapdoor, and advanced through the tunnel until he arrived at the first entrance. Then, he crawled out and nearly threw himself on the horse. He soon was galloping through the forest, and swiftly reached his destination – a huge, towering castle. He slowed to a trot as he passed through the gate; the castle had neither moat nor drawbridge that he had to cross. A man led the horse away as he jumped from it, running to the main castle barracks.
“Kiersten! Kiersten!” he yelled, halting as a burly guard stepped in front of him. “I have to see the general, sir,” he stated sharply, trying his best to squeeze past the guard.
“What’s with the rush?” the guard inquired, blocking the man’s former path.
“Please!” he uttered, running out of patience.
Finally, the guard allowed him to pass, walking slowly back into the room he had come out of. The man then dashed to the farthest door in the lengthy hallway and rapped on it.
“Come in,” came a voice from the other side of the door.
He stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. “You called me, Casper?” inquired Kiersten, all the while tapping a writing quill on his desk. He was a middle sized man, with bulging muscles from the battles he had fought. He had dark brown hair, and at that moment was wearing light, tan clothing.
“Yes, sir,” said Casper, panting out his words, “I have obtained it for you”. So saying, he explored inside his knapsack, finding and removing a small parcel wrapped in a cotton-like casing. Unwrapping it, he exposed a crimson parchment which he handed to Kiersten.
“You actually found it?” asked Kiersten, staring excitedly at it.
“Yes, I did. Now, will you please look at it?” Casper hastened him.
“Ah, yes.” said Kier

General J.S.
3/3/2013 04:04:48 am

Did it only post part of it?

Princess Writer
2/19/2013 10:53:22 pm

It's good bye again for a few months. I miss you all, I'm praying for you all.

Until the Spring,
♥ Her Highness ♥

The WordWeaver
3/1/2013 10:55:51 am

What!? NO!!!!

*Falls over onto knees*

:P "See ya" in the spring.


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